


Stars Make Me Choke

by Intergalactic_Octopus



Series: The Stained Hands Series [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Biracial Shepard, Biracial Zaeed, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 05:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6891412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Intergalactic_Octopus/pseuds/Intergalactic_Octopus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agitation, Irritability and hostility could describe Zaeed Massani as a person, if you wish to do so. He fought his way through the Terminus System for 20 years.  He had to be the nastiest bastard alive to last so long. But it could also describe symptoms, the result of trauma and pain, and the forced recall and revisiting of the events that shape a person in the worst way.</p><p>Even though Katrina Shepard and Zaeed came to an understanding on her letting Vido go during his mission, the effect it had on his mental state may have been above and beyond his ability to deal with alone. </p><p>Shepard does what she cans to bring the mercenary down from a self-destructive emotional episode while they better understand each other. Not as just paid teammates as people. Maybe even friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars Make Me Choke

**Author's Note:**

> Shepard/Zaeed Friendship Pre-Romance ficlit. This is started as a Hurt/Comfort prompt on tumblr that evolved into something more.
> 
> Read author's notes at the end for more explanations of things in the fiction and links to Shepard/Zaeed romance content. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“Commander, I think you should really pay a visit to Zaeed. He’s been on edge since your mission.” Kelly mentioned in passing as Katrina Shepard made her way to the elevator. She’d been talking to Mordin about… God she couldn’t remember what she actually went in there to talk with the jabbering Salarian about but it ended up with a very lively discussion about the significance of nudity in human art. Something about the juxtaposition of human morality with hypocrisy of nude double standards. It made her head hurt and she wished Ashley was still alive to handle all that artsy nonsense. Shepard almost didn’t hear Kelly the second time when she was informed that Zaeed was punching the walls in his cabin.

 

“He’s what now?” Katrina turned, scrunching her face, skeptical of what she just heard.

 

“Zaeed’s been throwing a fit since you got all back. Engineering has complained. I don’t really want to go down there with him.” Kelly made sure to add that last part.  A little reminder that while it may have been her job to handle the mental health of the crew, Zaeed was a bag of cats she wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pool.

 

“He said he was fine earlier.” Katrina crossed her arms over her chest and snorted. That entire mission went to hell the moment Zaeed decided to go rogue and force her hand. It wasn't like that wasn’t the first murder/revenge mission she’d been on with her crew. Hell, since she’d known Garrus he’d already dragged her on two different ones. Each time she had no real moral dilemma about killing the guys he was after.  But Zaeed involved civilians in his crusade and she had no choice but to save them. Sure, he was madder than hell but he calmed down enough to justify letting him back on the ship. Although, he was quiet on the ride back on the shuttle, that didn't seem like a reason for her to press him.

 

“I’m just telling you what I know, Commander.” Kelly shook her head and returned to her screen. “I’ll be here if you need me." She paused. "After he’s calmed down some that is.”

 

Katrina groaned, loud, hard and dramatic. The plan _was_ to go to the elevator, go to her room, feed her poor probably dying fish, take a very long shower and a nap. Now she’d have to wrestle a bull into submission. “Great…”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Katrina could already hear the sound of metal on metal clanking about and the sound of one object colliding with another.

 

“You sure he ain’t Krogan?” Grunt was standing at his door, propped against the frame, watching Zaeed rampage through his window. They could even hear a few, a lot, every obscenity shouted from his lips, muffled by the thick glass and walls.

 

“Think he’s going through puberty?” Katrina laughed. Partially because it was a very funny joke to her and partially to ease her annoyance with the mercenary. Humor’s the best salve for anything after all.

 

“Maybe. He’s the right age. For a Krogan at least.” Grunt rolled his big eyes in his head before turning toward his room. “Just shut him up will ya. I’m trying to sleep.” With that, the young Krogan existed the hallway, letting his door shut behind him.

 

Katrina just shook her head, running her fingers through her thick dyed blond hair and made the short trip to Zaeed’s end of the hallway. Surprisingly he hadn’t overridden the locks so that he could tantrum in solitude. The doors just opened wide for her as they always did when she got in close proximity them. 

 

What she saw when she stepped in reminded her of old vids of animals that had gotten trapped inside homes. Wild beasts, heaving hard and loud in the middle of the wreckage they’d caused. There were papers everywhere, boxes tossed against walls with all their contents on the floor and every available surface. He’d stripped off his armor (probably to rampage in comfort she supposed) and the pieces were everywhere. The corners of the room. The cot. The table. All over the floor. Just his wide back stretched over a thin white cotton t-shirt and a pair of dark pants. She'd never seem him out of armor before. Ever. Somehow the made him look more, pitiful? Vulnerable? She wasn’t sure as she watched his back rise and fall as he panted. Less like the war machine he appeared to be in that yellow and black armor, and more like a human.   

 

“Fucking goddamn piece of shit!” Zaeed roared out of nowhere, grabbing his beloved assault rifle, Jessie and holding it over his head, about to spike it to the ground before he stopped. He brought it down to eye level, holding it, flipping it in his hands before, very calmly given the present circumstances, placing it down on the table where he got it.

 

“Zaeed Massani!” She called out, taking advantage of his moment of lucidity to get his attention.

 

He snapped his head around and even with his surroundings his appearance shocked her. His face was red from his head to his shoulders, his nose and eyes even redder. Had he been crying? No, that couldn’t have been in, she thought. When she talked to him he seemed like the type of guy to not cry out of principle and maybe even some macho bullshit. Her schema of him didn’t include a man who was capable of producing tears yet when she peered into his wild mismatched eyes and she could see how glassy and wet they were.

 

She was glad she saw that though. For the whole scene made more sense now with that addition and she felt the surge of sympathy for him. She understood what she was seeing, having known the look before in some of the soldiers she’d fought alongside and in herself.

 

The rage.

 

The anger.

 

Tears and panic.

 

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD

 

It was the only thing that came to mind.

 

Even in hindsight, in his mission he showed signs of it that she’d foolishly only attributed to his blinding revenge. 

 

What was he seeing now? 

 

A gunshot.

 

Anger.

 

Blood.

 

A new eye and a huge scar.

 

Reliving it over and over again. Maybe he _understood_ why he needed to be a team player but his brain, his brain said ruminate. Revisit. Watch yourself almost die over and over again and know that no closure will come.

 

She knew that feeling.

 

“Zaeed.” Her voice was softer, calmer, even. He just turned away from her, his back heaving harder as he took in short rapid breaths.

 

“I’m gonna need you to breathe for me okay.” She said, taking slow steps toward him though it was hard with the booby trap of garbage he’d strewn all over the place. “Like this.” She demonstrated with long even breaths. Surprisingly he did his best to mimic them, though it only made his shoulders shake. Maybe he turned so he could cry again without her seeing. She was glad really.  She didn’t want to see that. If it was embarrassing for him she didn’t want to know him in that way for the sake of his pride.

 

“You know, I’m not a big fan of stars.” She said, stepping closer to him still, her voice getting softer and slower, something for him to latch on to. Her steady words to steady his mind that was probably racing.

 

“What?” He answered harshly, obviously not understanding where she was going with that statement. 

 

“After dying, I-“She started, getting close enough to touch him though she didn’t. “I can’t look at the stars the same away. It reminds me suffocating in space so I can’t stare at them too long. I probably won’t go swimming for a while either. The whole holding your breath thing, the weightlessness.” She explained her triggers. She needed him to relate and understand that she understood.

 

_”Zaeed is like you, but takes checks.”_

 

Joker’s words rung in her head and no words were truer in that moment.

 

“Sounds like shit.” He commented, stepping forward to the wall he always was leaned on when she came in and pressed his forehead to it. His neck and shoulders here slowly returning to his normal skin tone as he was finally calming down some.

 

“Also don’t like Thresher Maws either.” She finally pressed her hand against the small of his back. 

He flinched, and jerked his head to look at her. He’d been ready for a stab in the back and it showed all over his face. Furrowed brows, squinted eyes, anger. But with the realization that it was a gesture of comfort and not betrayal he relaxed, his wrinkled face softening with exhaustion.

 

“I bet.” He commented. He knew her past history as well as anyone. Letting his head slide down the wall some so his back would ache slightly. Enough to press his back more into her touch, signaling that he was okay with the contact and that she didn't have to stop.

 

“I locked myself in my room for two days after Grunts little rite of passage.” She stroked the small of his back, slow movements up and down, listening to the sound of his breathing calm. Zaeed just shut his eyes and placed his forehead back against the wall.

 

“I know. Everyone was worried. Vakarian almost had kittens.” He let out a long exhale through his nose, rubbing his red and raw fist that he held close to his chest.

 

“You weren’t?” She asked, moving her hand up his back, making the strokes longer and slower.

 

  
“No.” He answered sharply and quickly. “Sorta. Know the look.” He recalled the way she walked back into the ship. Eyes glazed over, staring far beyond anyone that spoke to her, not blinking, not speaking, like if she was touched she’d shatter like sugar glass.

 

“Then you know I know what’s going on?” She asked and he only nodded. “You want to lay down?” She asked and he nodded again, turning around to finally face her. His whole body looked heavy, like he was carrying a weight on his back. His face was less red, eyes and nose and all but his was tried, staring down at the mess he’d made around his feet.  

 

Katrina walked slightly ahead of him, kicking the chaos out of the way so he wouldn’t trip and pushed off the junk he’d thrown off the cot.

 

She stepped out of the way so he could lay down but he just shook his head.

 

“Sit on the end.” He scratched his neck gently, looking anywhere but at the commander. His cheeks were red again but not from the rage this time.

 

“Sure.” She agreed, sitting down on the head of the cot and waited for him to sit down next to him.

 

He didn’t.

 

Before she could be shocked he laid down, resting his head on her knees and turning to face her. His nose was pressed up against her stomach and he let out a very long exhale, content for the moment.

 

“Oh. Okay.” Katrina stammered, unsure what to do with him now. If it was any other situation she would have just shoved him off her lap. Though, if it was any other situation it was probably because he was drunk and was purposefully being obnoxious so it would be fair. But he’d had an episode so this was the right thing to do. No one else wanted to deal with him. Kelly didn’t and it was her job. Zaeed Massani made it his mission to come off as a violent man that doesn’t care about anyone. From what she could see now though, he was a man not held together by steel and mortar but with tape and staples and twine. It was something she could understand since she felt the same way sometimes.  

 

“I can move.” He was already getting up but she placed her hand on his head, gently running her long burgundy nails through his sandy brown hair.

 

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Assurance in her voice as he sank back down into her lap, wrapping his big arms around her waist. She returned to scratching his head, dragging her nails across his scalp and listening to him sigh loudly. His breathing was much more even, and relaxed. The peace in his demeanor compared to the destroyed room around him was actually quite amusing. If someone came in or peeped through his window they would be rather confused at the sight.

 

“Sorry I punched you.” She said, thinking about her actions during the mission and the wall of guilt that hit her. “And pointing that gun at you.” She added but he just lifted his hand, waving her apology out of the air.

 

“I was an ass.” He said, though his words were muffled by her stomach. “Having a fit don’t excuse that.”

 

“You said it, not me.” She smiled and he laughed. It was deep, more like a chuckle and rumbled through and across her stomach and legs.

 

“This…” He didn’t turn to the mess but he gestured to it. “Not you. It’s Vido. I’ll fight like I promised. Be a big goddamn hero. Play nice with others. Just.” He stopped.

 

“I get it.” She leaned back against the wall, making herself more comfortable so that she didn’t have to move. He needed to sleep, she knew the exhaustion that came with those episodes. She held up her Omni-Tool, Blinding out the windows, both the outer and the inner windows and turning down the lights. She reached around for a blanket but couldn’t seem to find one. It probably was on the floor somewhere or maybe he didn’t even have one. Other than his knife wall she actually wasn’t sure what Zaeed did in this room other than horde old stuff and tell stories. They didn’t know each other well enough.

 

“Talk to me.” He mumbled, moving his face from stomach. The newly dark room made him reexamine his surroundings for a moment but he just accepted it, twisting around to reposition himself on his back. 

 

“What do you want to talk about?” Katrina asked, looking down at him. He was staring up at ceiling, maybe. She wasn’t sure. She’d made the room far too dark.

 

“Dunno.” Zaeed said, leaning his head back into her knee, probably thinking. “Least favorite fight?”

 

“Really?” She couldn’t see him nod but she could feel it. “Alright. Let’s see. Back on the first Normandy we had to fight Rachni zombies on Noveria. I hated it.” Katrina hated that ice planet more than anything and any fight that came from it was subsequently horrible.

 

“Bullshit.” He gave a snort laugh. “You never fought Rachni.”

 

“Not bullshit. They were doing some illicit experiments with Rachni eggs. They ended up making Rachni babies that wouldn’t obey them. Might as well been zombies.” She explained. "Saved a Queen though." 

 

“I hate that ice ball.” He grumbled. “Did some light security work on that place. I had to wear this giant fucking white parka, looked like a goddamn marshmallow. Could barely point my gun forward with all that fluff.”

 

“I’d love to see that.” She laughed and he laughed back.

 

“Favorite fight then?” He continued his line of questions.

 

“Oh. I can’t tell you that one.” Katrina readjusted herself on the wall. Cots were way too uncomfortable but he refused to bunk with the rest of the crew. Unlike Garrus and Grunt, both of whom couldn’t fit in the Cerberus beds and so had valid excuses as to why they were not rooming with them, Zaeed just said he didn’t trust them. But he never seemed to trust anyone.

 

“Why the hell not? Got your ass beat or something?” Zaeed teased and she took the bait.

 

 “Fine. If you need to know. It was before I joined the military. Before I was poor little Orphan Shepard. I was in grade school and some girl made fun of my name.” She started.

 

“Katrina is a common name. What the fuck did she have to say?” He asked.

 

“This was before I was Katrina.” Her voice was smug and playful.

 

“Explain.” He probed.

 

“I thought you did your homework.” She recalled one of the first things he’d said to her. Though she couldn’t see it, he was rolling his eyes. “My birth name is Katyayani Shahalia.” It rolled off the tongue so nicely that she almost forgot she could form one of her first languages so effortlessly.

 

“Oh yea. Where are you from?” Zaeed asked.

 

“That is an incredibility white question, you know that right?” She smiled at him, barely able to make out his face in the dark.

 

His head squirmed a bit on her lap, twisting about to face her stomach again before he spoke.

 

“Yea well, don’t think that counts if I’m not goddamn white myself. Well not fully.” He said.

 

“Oh yea?” She was now thoroughly intrigued. “ _Where are you from?”_

 

“I asked first.” He said.

 

“Fine. My dad’s family was from Bengal, India and my mother family was from Luzon, an island on the Philippines. They met at work together and it was love at first sight.  You?”

 

“Don’t know as much as you I’m afraid. I know my mom moved from Egypt to Italy. Met my father. Had me. Bastard left me a bastard. Then she moved to London from there. Hated it. Left as soon as I could.”

“So Zaeed Massani is your real name?” She asked.

 

“Yea. Why wouldn’t it be?” He was almost offended.

 

“Sometimes people like to make up names to sound more badass.” She explained.

 

“Hey! I’m bad ass enough already. Besides, you’re the one with the fake name. How’d you start getting called Katrina Shepard?” He asked.

 

“When my parents died I was adopted by some white family. They thought my name was too hard and so I could fit in with the family I got a new first name and their last name. And so Katrina Shepard was born.” She started. “They could have just called me Kat like most people did. Hated it but at least I still had my own name. I ran away not to long after that but as soon as I turned 18 and joined the alliance, I figured I’d let Katyayani Shahalia stay with my parents on Earth. I hadn’t planned on ever going back. They didn’t change my middle name, Liwliwai, though so I still have a bit of my family with me, I suppose. ”

 

Silence.

 

Katrina couldn’t tell if he was listening anymore, the pause after she finished speaking was rather long. She leaned down to listen to see if he’d fallen asleep on her, bending down as far as she could with him pressed against her stomach.

 

“All that backstory and you haven’t told me the fight yet.” He spoke suddenly and almost scared her.

 

“Right right. That was your fault by the way.” She played off her elevated heart rate with a laugh.

 

“Whatever. Talk.” He ordered, playfully.

 

“Right, so this little girl was making fun of my name. It was like kindergarten so we were practicing spelling our names on the board. I was really good at that by the way so I went up to the board all proud and put my whole name up there. First, Middle and Last just like we were taught. She said that I made up that name and that it was just a bunch letters. Called me a liar to my face and said that was too dumb to write my name right.” Katrina gave the backstory to the fight.

 

“What a bitch.” Zaeed gave his commentary and Shepard laughed.

 

“Seriously. But don’t call girls bitches, even little bitches.” She scolded him gently and he just snorted. “Anyway, I was so upset. For one, I knew how to spell my own name. Second, her name was Amanda and she always forgot to put the middle ‘a’ in her name so I know I wasn’t dumb. I cried my eyes out in class and the teacher made her apologize to me. I don’t remember what she said but it was the rudest half apology ever. Suddenly I was so mad I could have fought a Krogan. Full adult Wrex sized Krogan.” Zaeed laughed at that.

 

“I plotted my revenge all day. I was going to pull her stupid pig tails out of her head. Or I was going to throw dirt in her face and jump kick her in the stomach like in a movie I watched. I was so ready. But when we got to recess all I saw was red when I saw her on the other end of the playground. I ran full speed like a bull and head butted her straight in the stomach, knocked her clean off her feet and out of her shoes. I bit my lip so I was bleeding all over the place, my head hurt something terrible and I got a note sent home from school for fighting. But it was worth it.” Shepard punctuated her sentence with a nod and Zaeed laughed more, one that shook the cot and made her stomach warm.

 

“Christ. You were hell for a long time.”  His laugh softened to a chuckle and then a loud long exhale. “Alright.” Zaeed lifted himself off her, sitting down on the edge of the cot now and cracking his neck. “I should let you go. Thanks. For… Sitting here with me and all.” He stammered, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

Shepard stood up, stretching out her arms and back before turning up the lights in the room just enough for her to see the floor. The last thing she needed to do was break her face on all the junk everywhere.

 

“Don’t mention it. I get it. Do me a favor though.” She said, placing her hand on his shoulder.

 

“What?”

 

“Get some sleep. And talk to Kelly. This is her job after all. And don’t scare her off with some story, alright.” She warned and a little smile spread across his lips.

 

“Right. Got it.” He stood up then started kicking around the wreckage off over his floor before he found a thin blanket wedged between an overturned box and his Krogan helmet. He yanked it free and slung on the cot before turning to Shepard. “Turn the light back off when you leave. No fucking clue where my omni tool is.” He said, climbing onto the cot and throwing the blanket over himself, facing the wall.

 

“Can do. Get some rest.” She said, retreating carefully over the piles on the floor and headed to the door.  Light flooded in room and made her squint a bit, not having enough time to adjust to the new intensity of the light.

 

He just waved his arm in the air but didn’t turn over. At least he was listening and was doing what she asked. She turned off the lights completely and left him to rest, walking out into the hallway and letting the door shut behind her.

 

“Siha.” Thane was propped against the wall opposite of the elevator, waiting for her.

 

“Yeoman Chambers informed me you were down here. Is everything well?” He walked up to meet her, taking her hands in his own and giving the tops a gentle kiss.

 

“Yes, it’s fine. Just helping Zaeed with something.” She didn’t explain further. Not because she wanted to keep secrets but she did want to respect Zaeed’s privacy. Zaeed would be happier with everyone thinking he was a rampaging monster than someone that actually had feelings.

 

“She informed me that Zaeed was rather agitated because of the assignment you two were on. From what I heard it became charged and words were exchanged. She asked you to help calm him.” He placed an arm on her shoulder affectionately, and Shepard rested her head on it, walking side by side to the elevator. “Were you able to help?”

 

“I think so, we-” She thought of how to say her words. “I think we understand each other a little better now. He should be fine.” She smiled, pressing the “1” button to take them to her cabin.

 

“I am glad then. Zaeed carries around so much anger and rage. It is good to know he has a friend at his side. I do not believe he’s known many them in his time.” Thane leaned up against the wall of the elevator, taking her with him. 

 

“Friends.” She tested the word in her mouth. Zaeed and Shepard were not at friend level yet but they were much closer than a few hours ago and more so than when they first met. If she was being honest with herself, she couldn’t stand the man at first. But he was growing on her finally and if it continued, friend would be a good title to have with him one day. “Friend sounds good. I think I can do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this! I’m writing a rather long Zaeed/Shepard romance fiction (It’s currently almost 40,000 words long and it’s still not done). This started out as a Hurt/comfort prompt but I decided that it was going to be perfect as a set up for the romance. I know the Thane romance ending seems like a bait and switch but I wanted my Shepard, Katrina, to be a previously romanced Shepard and having to deal with Thane’s death in 3 while forming a new romance with Zaeed. 
> 
> First and foremost. I wanted to talk about PTSD and my choice to attribute Zaeed's actions in his loyalty mission to a PTSD episode. From all the scenes you see Zaeed in, he's an ass, a bit of a boaster and cocky but he's never really loud, shouting and aggressive. At least, not as bad as he is if you do a Paragon run of the mission. He talks about reliving \that moment over and over again. One of the most jarring things he says that what brings him back is gunfire. People talk about Gun fire a lot when war vets and PTSD and how it brings them back to combat. In the comics, Zaeed decides to drink himself to half death after Vido's betrayal so he's not exactly in the soundest mind set. If you don't let him kill Vido, I think not only can he not deal out his revenge but he can't get closure for a 20 year cloud that's been hanging over him. There is also the scene in the Paragon run where Zaeed is pinned under the beam and Shepard points the gun at him. I always saw that as a possible trigger for him simply because it's recreating a terrible experience for him. When you look at his conversations in ME3 he's calmer about everything and probably has done a lot of healing because of being on the team with Shepard. 
> 
> Zaeed is not the only character I think is dealing with PTSD. Shepard is number 1 on that list. Especially with the whole death thing. I don't see it not affecting Shepard to look and be reminded of Death instead of freedom or exploration. Then everything with the Reapers and being the big Goddamn hero. ME3 is a really good example of all that coming back to them. Garrus is there in two. I remember playing through Garrus' recruitment mission and hoping over a couch, only to find dead bodies that I never noticed. In the big room up top, there are more dead bodies. I know there are more and I can't imagine Garrus living in the house that use to have a bunch of people to now sleeping (when he can) in a room next to, and above corpses and more corpses. Jake too with everything she's been through. There are probably more characters but I don't have the characters to list them all. 
> 
> The crying for Zaeed, I wasn't originally going to add it but I decided that the reason I wasn't going to add it was the reason I SHOULD. Zaeed is the quintessential bad ass/devil may care character. His persona is Macho, tough and a total bad motherfucker. People would think it's OCC to have him in tears but I think that's the devil of PTSD and other mental disorders. It doesn't really matter how strong you appear on the outside, they can always be stronger. And even there, there is no reason why a "macho" guy can't cry when he's upset about something. There is no shame in that and I wanted to include that all while respecting the fact that he may not be ready for anyone to see that side of him just yet. 
> 
> Also this is the only way I could think of as a good way to introduce my racial headcannons for Zaeed. I didn’t want him to have a name like Zaeed Massani and it just seemed like a white guy trying to have a bad ass name. So introducing biracial, Egyptian/Italian, Zaeed. On his free time or when he’s talking to himself, or happens to find someone else that speaks it, he’s talking Arabic though it comes out as English for the translator. It’s what he spoke at home with his mother. 
> 
> My Shepard is Indian/Filipino. Her first and last name are Punjabi while her middle name is Tagalog. She uses an American naming style since she was born in the US to US parents. This is just where her family came from. She probably has family back in those areas but after her parents died, she never got to meet them. 
> 
> I will probably write more small Pre-Romance fictions for these two with their friendship so you could see the friendship grow before the big romance fic. So prepare your pants for fluff friendship and a Thane!Romance Shepard. Because I’m super trash for friendship.
> 
> If you thirst for romance content now though, Check out my art blog at [ Zaeed Massani ](http://8-legs.tumblr.com/tagged/zaeed%20massani) for some individual Zaeed pictures but MOSTLY Shep/Zaeed pictures. Also if you want some NSFW stuff, ask me on that blog over there and I’ll give you the blog name. 
> 
> See you all next time!
> 
> Besos!


End file.
